How Male Pregnancy Works
by Living.Like.A.Boss
Summary: Harry gets pregnant and totally flips out, leaving Draco to explain the technicalities. Oneshot.


**How Male Pregnancy Works**

**Summary: **Harry gets pregnant and totally flips out, leaving Draco to explain the technicalities. Oneshot.

**Warning(s): **Mpreg (duh), crack-ish

**Author's Note: **This is really a silly little oneshot that I wrote so that I could use my explanation on how I believe Mpreg works in the magical world of Harry Potter.

* * *

"_What?" _I exclaim, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. _Did—did the Healer just say I was…was…_

Pregnant.

Bloody hell.

How's that even _possible? _I don't have the proper equipment required to conceive! I'm a _guy, _for Merlin's sake! I have a cock and everything! I think I would have noticed if I suddenly grew a vagina and tits overnight.

No. Fucking. Way.

"Calm down Mr. Potter. Your magic is getting out of control; it'll upset the baby," Healer Jackson chastises, eyes staring intently at my midsection. I feel sort of self-conscious under his gaze, as well as his statement, and use my arms to shield the baby.

If there was a baby. Which there _isn't_. I still refuse to believe such tripe as a male having the ability to have children.

But just to be safe, I slow down my breathing and try to keep myself calm. Hypothetically speaking, if there _is _a baby—which there isn't of course! I will not fall for this obvious attempt at an April Fools' joke. Even though…April Fools' was…five months away—I wouldn't want to cause it any unnecessary pain.

"Okay. Okay—let's start from the top. What, may I ask, is the diagnosis again?" I stutter out, as soon as I was sure that I could speak without yelling out in confusion, panic, disbelief.

"You're pregnant, Mr. Potter."

Air flood my lungs once again as I take a huge intake of breath. I allow my head to fall into my hands as my brain continues to grapple with the fact that there is another life growing within me.

Merlin, this would take some time to get used to.

* * *

The moment I stumble through the fireplace with a blank look on my face, a frantic Draco Malfoy immediately makes his way to my side, hands flying to my shoulders to pin me in place.

"What's wrong Harry?" he asks, his forehead scrunched up with worry, his lips quivering with what I think to be fear. "W-was it the visit to St. Mungos? Are you…sick?"

It seemed to pain Draco to say that last statement. I'm confused for a second before understanding smashes it way into my thick mind.

_He thinks I'm going to die! Good Godric, maybe I should stop looking so morbid, this _is _good news after all. Just not expected…natural…or possible…_

I clear my throat and gesture towards the sofa.

"You might want to sit down for this."

The hands on my shoulder clench tighter and Draco looks like he wants to burst into tears, if not for the fact that he was a respectable Malfoy who would never do such a plebeian thing such as crying (apart from the incident in Sixth year).

I feel the need to reassure him that all is well—if you consider a male up the duff as 'well'—and I raise my hand to cup his cheek gently.

"Don't look so sad—it's not bad news at all. I'm not sick, per say. I'm not dying, silly."

Draco stares at me incredulously once the words leave my mouth, the vulnerable Malfoy of before instantly replaced with the Malfoy I knew and loved.

"_What? _And you actually let me believe that you were," Draco chokes a little at this point, " that you were going to die? That's pretty messed up Potter."

Default arrogant Draco was back (not that I mind) and he punches my shoulder playfully.

"Nice acting, Harry. Never knew you had it in you. You almost had me going there. So, nothing's wrong?" Draco inquires calmly now, sitting comfortably down onto the sofa, pulling me onto his lap.

"Well…"

"_Harry," _Draco warns, obviously not wanting to wait any longer to hear the verdict of my visit to the Healer's.

"Do you know that wizards can get pregnant?" I blurt out suddenly. I wince as I realise what I just said. Feeling the urge to bang my head against the wall (I was planning to ease Draco slowly into the news of my pregnancy), I lower my head, refusing to look Draco in the eye, and waited for his answer.

"Of course. _Everyone_ knows that."

_What?_

"What?!" my words mirror my thoughts as I look up to meet his eyes, my inquiring emeralds trying to coax an answer out of those mirthful greys.

"Didn't you know, Harry?" Draco asks in a soft voice, "I mean every pureblood knows—"

"I'm not a pureblood!" I interrupt immediately. "You should have told me I could become pregnant before you stuck your dick up my hole!"

Draco coughs at my crass language and caresses my right arm in a soothing fashion. I shrug it off in my frustration. Draco knew and he didn't tell me! Of course I'll be upset, right?

"Come on Potter! Don't you dare ignore me; you know how much I hate being ignored. I'm sorry, okay? I thought you already knew." Draco pulls me to his chest in a tight embrace, and I allow him to. He sounds apologetic enough.

He plants a kiss in the middle of my shoulder blades and that small action helps me relax. I curl up in a ball against his chest before asking lazily, "Why did you assume that I already knew?"

Draco arches an eyebrow at my question. "Because all Hogwarts students are taught this in Seventh Year."

"I wasn't there in Seventh Year, you prat! Don't you remember? Voldemort taking over the school and everything?" I ignore Draco's flinch at Voldemort's name, staring at him in disbelief.

"Oh yeah," Draco says sheepishly. Oh yeah, indeed! I cannot believe Draco overlooked that tiny fact.

Noticing the scowl on my face, Draco adds, "In my defense, that was ten years ago. Plus, if you didn't learn about it in Hogwarts, shouldn't Weasley have told you when you started dating men?"

His lips curl a little in disgust when he says 'men' instead of 'me'. He has always hated the fact that he wasn't the first man I dated. I find his jealousy absolutely adorable at times.

"I guess he assumed I knew already."

A comfortable silence falls around us as Draco plays absent-mindedly with a strand of my hair. It seems that Draco has nothing left to say to my last statement. But wait! I have more that I want to ask.

"Draco?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Could you explain to me how a male can get pregnant? I mean—I still don't understand how it's possible. We don't have any of the proper…parts, after all." I question him, a blush starting to form on my face. This topic is kind of embarrassing.

_I'm sort of glad that I didn't learn this in school with the other students. _

"Actually," Draco corrects, "only wizards can get pregnant. Muggle males can't."

I give him a 'No duh, you know what I meant' look. He sighs then begins, "You see, magic is an amazing thing. And without a doubt, it is a key of creation."

He stares at me, silently asking if I followed so far. I nod and gesture for him to continue.

"No one actually knows why. But many believe that the magic works to match the wishes of the wizard. So, for you to get pregnant, it means that you actually want to have children with _me._" Draco says the last line with awe in his voice and I turn around to face him, a wide smile on my face.

"Of course I would like to have a child with you, silly. But you haven't actually explained how the baby will grow and um…get out. Or even how it got in! It's not like I have a womb for it to grow in anyway," I wonder aloud.

Draco clucks his tongue. "You're thinking about Muggle science, Harry. _We _have _magic._ That triumphs over any of the Muggle logic and rules won't you say? Or does science somehow explain how conjuring a quill out of nothing works?

"Anyway, each individual's magic is unique. Like—what do the Muggles call it again—DNA. So, for the baby to exist, our magic merges. I've mentioned before how magic is a key of creation, right? In this case, it helps create life. Therefore, our baby could technically be called a magic baby. It is _born _from magic."

I scratch my head a little at that. "Does that mean it doesn't have anything to do with you spilling your semen in me?"

Draco chokes again—this is a man that uses rat's blood and horse spleen to make potions yet flusters at any mention of the human anatomy—before responding, "I—no. My magic is carried through my sperm and it merges with _your _magic in your body. The magic then forms a womb and provides whatever is needed for it to stay safe and grow fully."

"Then how does it get out?" Because that question has seriously been bugging me.

"They will have to—how do I put this nicely—cut you open, since you don't have a channel for the baby to come out from."

"Whoa! Cut me open? That doesn't sound nice at all!" I protest.

Draco shrugs, "Don't worry about it to much. Magic can work miracles after all. There are spells to make sure you don't feel pain."

"Okay," I heave a sigh of relief, and cuddle close to his chest. "So you want to have this baby with me?"

He places his hand onto my stomach—Merlin there's actually a _baby _in there—and I place my own on top of his.

"Of course," Draco whispers, "I can't think of anything else I would rather do."


End file.
